Black 47: For the Irish punk in you

By Peter Bothum • The News Journal • March 11, 2010

There will be two camps that form in the next
week, with one notably larger than the other: Those who revel in St.
Patrick's Day and its accompanying drinking, music and merriment, and
those who feel that the whole thing is Blarney.

Members of the first group probably already have
their plans set, or else they could pick from an event or participating
venue on pages 16, 17 and 31 of this section.

As far as music purposes go, the epicenter of
Irish music this weekend is the World Cafe Live, 3025 Walnut St.,
Philadelphia, where Black 47 will perform at 6:30 p.m. Sunday.

Many fans of political Celtic rock think of The
Pogues first and foremost, but Black 47 has to be considered The Beatles
to their Rolling Stones.

Youngins, meanwhile, seem to favor Flogging Molly
and Dropkick Murphys. But those bands wouldn't exist if Larry Kirwan's
crew of rabble-rousers hadn't set up shop in New York in 1989 and blasted
away with festive romps ("Funky Ceilli," "Different Drummer") and angry
pleas for peace ("Livin' in America," "Rockin' The Bronx").

With a sound bursting with uilleann pipes, tin
whistles and an impressive arsenal of brass, Black 47 is the unofficial
band of St. Patrick's Day.

It worked for Queen, because they never really
did it. After Freddie Mercury's death in 1986, the band played a few
stadium shows with revolving lead singers. When they toured with former
Bad Company main man Paul Rodgers as their singer, they made it clear:
This was Paul Rodgers + Queen, not the real-deal Queen by any
stretch.

It didn't work for INXS. After Michael Hutchence
died in 1995, the band put in the douche from "American Idol," which was a
disaster from the moment he opened his mouth. The band with eight players
could have 80, and it wouldn't matter -- Hutchence was the band.
Period.

Then there's Alice In Chains, which went into
hibernation for a while after Layne Staley died in 1995, and then went
through a batch of replacement frontmen after deciding to reunite. They
finally settled on William DuVall, singer for the band Comes with the
Fall, and the response has been mainly positive.

Maybe that's because guitarist Jerry Cantrell
wrote the tunes, and Staley delivered them with one of the most amazing
rock voices of the last 20 years. But they're still good tunes, and DuVall
handles them well.

Alice In Chains' show Saturday at The Tower is
sold out. Check StubHub.com or your favorite ticket broker to see if you
can nab your own tickets.

You want to hate Michael Buble. You need to hate
Michael Buble, especially after you watched Canada -- his native country
-- rip gold medals off the necks of the U.S. hockey team.

But you can't. Because Buble is a modern-day,
poor man's Frank Sinatra. A sweet crooner with style. A handsome dude who
seems cool. A guy who puts out music that non-fans probably wouldn't
voluntarily buy or fire up, but who also wouldn't throw up if it were on
in the background.

Tickets to see Buble do his thing at
Philadelphia's big house range from $49.50-$95. Naturally 7 opens the
show. Visit http://www.comcasttix.com/.